


manicure

by Pandolphin



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, because i'm feeling that in this fic tonight, is that a phrase the ao3 kids are using these days, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:10:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandolphin/pseuds/Pandolphin
Summary: Mettaton does Papyrus' nails. (The fact that he does not have nails is irrelevant.)





	manicure

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea from a nicomaki comic of all places because that's just how it sometimes. link to the comic is at the end!!

Papyrus had no nails to really paint, and bony fingertips didn't provide much of a canvas to work with, but lacking the proper attributes for cosmetics had never stopped Mettaton on his own beauty agenda before. He also had no actual nails, or real skin for that matter, but he'd managed to push through on creativity and persistence alone; Papyrus had both in leaps and bounds, and the patience and trust to let Mettaton experiment as he needed to.

Mettaton supposed that notion of faith made sense, especially after finally being able to give Papyrus the bishonen eyes of his dreams through much trial and error—but it put his soul at ease regardless.

He'd let Papyrus pick out a lacquer from his own collection, a deep red color with a glittery, holographic finish. It wasn't one Mettaton wore often himself, striking as it was, but it suited Papyrus quite nicely, and with those gloves he was always wearing, the color would stay on for much longer than normal.

“Just make sure you take it off yourself at some point, sweetheart.” He'd warned, prepping bone with clear polish as best he could. “You'll be able to peel the polish right off with this coat, so it's more just to be safe. I'd just hate for this to leave a stain on you. It'd be a lot harder to get out than the eyeliner was.”

“EVEN IF IT DID STAIN,” Papyrus countered, “WOULDN'T IT ONLY MAKE PUTTING IT BACK ON EASIER? IT WOULD JUST BE A GUIDE FOR WHERE TO PAINT.”

“True, but it probably wouldn't help you much as far as cooking is concerned. Much less flattering than an impromptu smoky eye, at that.”

“A VERY EXCELLENT POINT. BUT THE STAIN MIGHT END UP LOOKING A LITTLE COOL, AT LEAST. UNDYNE'S 'BEING COVERED IN THE BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES' TALKS LEAVE AN IMPRESSION.”

Mettaton cracked a smile and a quiet snort at that, capping off the clear polish with quietly shaking shoulders. “Well, if you find any enemies with glitter for blood, I hope you'd at least invite me to watch the bloodshed.”

“IF I MUST DO BATTLE, IT WILL BE IN YOUR HONOR.”

“My hero~”

It would have been easy to just handle Papyrus' nails and call it a day, but he was insistent on learning how to do this for himself—as he was with most new skills he learned, a trait that Mettaton found quite understandable and admirable—so when Mettaton finished one hand, he let Papyrus return the favor on his own. Papyrus' strokes with the brush weren't quite as precise, either laid on too thin or too thick, but the rhythm wasn't hard for him to find, by the end of Mettaton's left hand. Though it still wasn't without a very furrowed brow on such a normally perky skull.

“Darling, you don't have to stress so much. There's nothing at this point that'd be a hard fix.”

“I KNOW. IF IT WERE MY OWN HAND, I WOULDN'T WORRY SO MUCH.” Papyrus squinted at the pinky of Mettaton's left hand, before deciding it needed a second coat. “BUT YOU HAVE APPEARANCES TO KEEP UP. EVEN MORE SO THAN I DO! IT'S AN EVER-PRESENT BUT NOT UNWELCOME CONCERN.”

“Is it, now?” There's a tease to Mettaton's voice, as there usually is, but it's without any ulterior motive or malice. “You're forgetting we both wear gloves, Pap. There's no need to be worried, when this is all private between us two.”

Something about what he'd caused Papyrus to still, and when Papyrus stills, Mettaton had learned, it could be a sign for concern. He didn't look upset or flustered, at the very least, just... curious. Curious, with eye sockets focused straight on Mettaton's hand in his own. And as flattering as Papyrus' gaze on him was, Mettaton would have preferred it be on all of him, and not so silent.

“Papyrus?”

“EH—OH! RIGHT, RIGHT.” All at once, Papyrus snapped back to life, and released Mettaton's hand like he'd been caught touching something he wasn't supposed to—which wasn't exactly the reaction Mettaton had wanted, Papyrus should be comfortable reaching out and holding him where ever, whenever—but he jumped right back into the game all the same. “ER, WHAT WAS NEXT? THE DESIGN NEEDLE THING?”

“If you're still willing to let me play with your hands, then yes.”

“CONSIDER ME YOUR PERSONAL COSMETIC TEST DUMMY.”

“I'd rather consider you my personal cosmetic test genius.”

“N-NYEH! SWEET NOTHINGS LIKE THAT WILL GET YOU EVERYWHERE, BUT IS NOW REALLY THE TIME?”

“I mean, it could be.” Undeterred, Mettaton took Papyrus' right hand in his own, and dipped his needle pen in white polish. “But we should at least wait until we're both dry, before we start getting really ridiculous. Because you know we will.”

“UNDYNE DID SAY WE WERE DISGUSTINGLY AFFECTIONATE.”

“That's still rich, coming from her. Now, hold still just a second...”

This was just an example, a simple polka dot pattern on the coloring of Papyrus' pointer finger. There wasn't much in the ways of ample designs Mettaton could do with such a limited space, and the nail was much too dry for marbling now, but more intricate designs could wait until Papyrus was more comfortable with the process on his own. 

“Easy, right? Think you can handle that?”

“I THINK I CAN!” Papyrus took the needle offered to him, and reached out for Mettaton's left hand again. “SHOULD I GO OVER ALL YOUR NAILS, OR...?”

“You can, if you want. Though sometimes it's more artistic to just have one nail with a design.” He gave Papyrus a knowing wink. “And I do know you're an artist.”

Papyrus' face flashed orange, but his expression kept that same curious expression from earlier, before his eye sockets widened for the briefest moment. Mettaton knew well enough by now the sign of his post-mortem paramour getting an idea, though the return of that intense concentration kept his mouth shut. He supposed whatever design Papyrus had in mind could stay a surprise a moment longer.

It didn't stop him from trying to feel out what was being drawn on his finger, though.

“...ALRIGHT. DONE AND DONE.”

Papyrus had only drawn on one of Mettaton's nails—whether or not it was in part to Mettaton's comments on artistry, he couldn't say, but the design was simple enough that he was surprised he hadn't figured it out on feeling alone. On his left ring finger, Papyrus had drawn a simple bone. Simple, but striking against the glittery red. Mettaton simply had to admire it, despite his own questions.

“Papyrus, you're a natural with the needle.” His voice was equal parts proud and impressed, his smile natural and easy going. “Why only the one nail, though? I wouldn't have minded if you did more.”

When he looked back up, though, his smile turned into a frown, because Papyrus was doing all in his power to not look in his direction. The little orange blush on his cheekbones didn't help Mettaton's roaming mind any. “Pap?”

“IT'S—WELL. YOU KNOW.” Papyrus shrugged awkwardly, and coughed into one hand to clear the air. “THAT'S, UH... THAT'S YOUR MOST IMPORTANT FINGER.”

There's a moment's pause where Mettaton stares at Papyrus, then back to his hand. His most important finger? What did that mean? Surely, the intent would have been the same regardless of what finger he chose; it was a bone, that was clearly Papyrus making his mark on him, which a sweetly intimate gesture Mettaton approved of. But what was the point of putting it on his ring--

It was his ring finger.

The ring finger of his left hand.

The ring finger where one was supposed to...

“Ah--!!” Mettaton clamped his right hand over his mouth, before his gasp got any bigger and damaged his left. But his eyes were wide and his face was burning, and when he looked back up to Papyrus, the feeling appeared to be mutual. “This is—is this—is this happening right now? Am I supposed to have an answer?”

“OH!!! OH NO, NOT NOW! IT'S STILL TOO SOON FOR THAT.” Though the subtle indication that Papyrus was thinking of when would be the right time for that was enough to send Mettaton's fans whirring. “IT'S JUST... YOU SAID THIS WAS BETWEEN US, RIGHT? AND IT'S, WELL... I-IT'S A NICE THOUGHT.”

Between us. A nice thought. And the more Mettaton looked at that little bone, eyes wavering with emotion, the more and more those notions rang true. Under any normal circumstances, he might have started crying—he knew what he was about—but Papyrus deserved some sort of response, so he swallowed his feelings, and held out his hand.

“...Don't I get to return the favor, darling?”

Papyrus all but jumped from shock, but returned the needle regardless. Mettaton took it, along with his left hand, with a quiet, bashful, “thank you”.

His design took much longer, again, with the smaller canvas, but there was also a small lapse in creativity. The obvious solution would have just been to draw a heart, but that was too simple, too vague. Papyrus had made such a bold move, and while nothing would match that moment now, he deserved the same in return. A sign that Mettaton was there. A sign that Mettaton had held this hand and would hold it again. That he was Mettaton's.

And after a moment of personal debate, Mettaton decided on just that—Mettaton.

It wasn't his finest signature; deft as he was with the needle, it wasn't the ideal means of signing, but he'd managed a simple, cursive 'MTT' on Papyrus' ring finger despite all odds. He released his hand without a word but with reluctance and tenderness, and simply watched as Papyrus examined the design. Mettaton didn't have to ask what he thought; the glow from Papyrus' smile said it all on its own.

“Next time,” Mettaton said softly, “I'll write it in gold. So everyone can see it.”

Papyrus nodded, full of enthusiasm. “ONLY IF YOU SHOW ME HOW TO COVER YOURS IN DIAMONDS.”

“Gaudy. But gladly.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://cheekpouches.tumblr.com/post/151878447591/cheesy-nicomakis-in-love-3
> 
> this is the comic i got the idea from, even if you don't love live pls love on it it's adorable (and don't let the artist know that this happened as a result of it i'm cryin)


End file.
